


Stargazing

by Little Dipper (Tox)



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Bill has conflicted feelings about space and also Dipper, Fluff, Human Bill Cipher, M/M, that's pretty much the whole plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 02:45:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8827312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tox/pseuds/Little%20Dipper
Summary: Dipper introduces Bill to the wonderful world of stargazing. Bill is unimpressed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was something I wrote a while ago and just now fixed up for posting. Originally it was set in the world of my chapter-fic, Long Road to Hell, but things have changed since then so I decided to make this its own little one-shot. This fandom needs more in-universe, in-character fluff. >:V

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

“I don’t see what’s going to be fun about this, kid.”

Dipper dragged Bill up the hill by both hands, the demon begrudgingly allowing himself to be pulled along only on the pretense that he was  _ allowing _ Dipper to choose how they spent their night. Days had been so busy, and there had been little time to spend together; as much as Bill hated to admit it, he relished the alone time they had, however little of it there was. It was the older twins’ fault - they did everything in their power to keep Dipper and Bill apart as often as possible.

“It’s just  _ space _ ,” Bill said as they reached the top of the hill. “You see it every night, Pine Tree.” He looked down at their interlocked hands and frowned just a little bit. It upset him the way his stomach churned at the feel of Dipper’s hands around his own. He  _ hated _ these human feelings.

“Yeah, but I don’t really  _ look _ at it every night,” Dipper replied in earnest. “You know what I mean?” He stared into Bill’s eyes for a moment, then sighed and dropped his hands. “Whatever. You’ll see. Just lay down.”

Bill watched as Dipper sat down on the grass, then flopped onto his back and folded his hands under his head. His hat just barely tipped upwards, and under the fringes of his bangs, Bill could see the Little Dipper on his forehead. 

“...Fine.” He followed what Dipper had done, even going so far as to fold his hands under his head as he laid back on the hill and gazed up at the stars. 

The moon cast a bright light down upon them as it waxed to its fullest, and in the distance of the Gravity Falls forest, there were howls that could have been wolves or werewolves or just crazy Kill Billies. Bill didn’t understand what about all of that was relaxing, as Dipper insisted it was. ‘The sounds of nature,’ he had said. Something he’d learned to appreciate as he grew up and spent more time in the Falls. Bill had been in Gravity Falls for years, and been trapped in space between dimensions for even more than that - what was so impressive about  _ this? _

Dipper breathed a gentle sigh beside him. “Isn’t it amazing?” he said in wonder. “Look at all of those stars. The vast expanse of universe above us… It’s breathtaking.” He turned his head to look at Bill, and Bill looked back, his expression easily readable as unimpressed. Dipper frowned at him, then turned back to the sky and lifted one of his hands to point up at the stars.

“That’s one of my favorite constellations,” he said as he pointed out Orion.  “Grunkle Ford has always liked it, so I guess I kind of grew attached to it.”

“There’s crazy stuff in that belt,” Bill commented idly.

Dipper glanced at him, then moved onto a different part of the sky. “And there - you know what that is.”

“ _ Ursa minor, _ ” said Bill. “Crafty little critters. Don’t wanna mess with their mom!” He chuckled to himself, then looked over at an annoyed Dipper and rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine, kid. And the Little Dipper. The thing that’s on your head. I know what it is.”

Dipper exhaled sharply and looked back up at the stars. He was silent for a moment, contemplating something - for a moment Bill wished he was back in the Mindscape, could take a peek into Dipper’s thoughts - and then he spoke again. “What’s  _ your _ favorite constellation, Bill?”

Now Bill grinned. “Why,  _ me _ , of course,” he said with smug satisfaction. “What else?”

“Right. Grunkle Ford drew that constellation in his journal.” Dipper scrunched up his nose and looked at Bill again. “How the heck did you get your own constellation?”

Bill’s smile faded at the thought, and his heart felt like it was falling somewhere in his chest. “Sometimes the stars just align weird,” he said. “Nothing to it.” He shrugged, keeping his eyes firmly planted on the sky above. “So tell me, Pine Tree - what’s so great about this?”

Dipper put his hand back behind his head and settled more into the grass, his hat falling completely off in the process. “It’s  _ space, _ ” he said. “It’s… it’s beautiful. It’s endless. It makes me think of all the possibilities that are out there, all the adventures left to be had… it makes me feel so small, but then I see the Little Dipper and I feel  _ huge.  _ Like I’m a part of something greater. Y’know?” He glanced at Bill again, but Bill was still looking up. “What does it make  _ you _ think of, Bill?”

For a long moment, Bill was quiet as he stared up into the heavens. What a surreal moment this was, he thought. Here he was in a humanoid body, staring up at the stars with a kid he’d tried to kill on numerous occasions, fighting off  _ emotions  _ that he wasn’t supposed to feel. Dipper made him experience enough of them; space… it only added to the pile. Yet whereas Dipper made his insides flutter, the endless expanse of stars made him wish he were dead.

“It makes me think of failure,” he said after a while, his voice low and soft. “Darkness. An endless void. It makes me think of that… that damn Axolotl, talking down to me like I’m nothing, like I’m...  _ insignificant _ because of how I chose to live my life…” He grit his teeth, then sighed and closed his eyes. “It makes me think of home. Watching it burn. Floating amidst the stars with no company, no friends, no family - Not that… I mean, I  _ chose _ to be alone. It just got boring after a while…” He opened his eyes again and stared up at his own constellation.  _ William.  _ “Makes me think of how I wanted to destroy this entire reality not so long ago. Before I came back. Before… you.”

His eyes drifted to the Little Dipper, then back to his own Dipper - who had, surprisingly, turned on his side to listen to Bill speak. His eyes glimmered in the moonlight, and Bill felt his stomach clench and his heart pound.  _ Stupid organs!  _

“Wow,” Dipper breathed. “That’s… That’s heavy, man.” 

“Nothing a few thousand years doesn’t fix,” Bill said with a half-smile. “I guess I just can’t see the stars  _ brimming with hope  _ like you do, kid.” The smile faded, and suddenly Bill reached out and touched Dipper’s forehead, pushed his hair aside to reveal his birthmark. Dipper was perfectly still under his fingers.

“Well… maybe some of them are,” Bill said solemnly. 

Dipper blinked slowly at him, then huffed and smiled a little. “That’s… super corny, Bill,” he said. His cheeks were flush with color as Bill traced the lines of the constellation on his skin. “You’re just saying that to mess with my head.” He didn’t look like he believed what he was saying.

Bill smirked and pulled his hand back. “Sure, kid,” he said. “I’m just saying… some constellations are easier on the eyes than others.”

He turned his head to look back up at the sky, but then Dipper was suddenly in his field of view again, looking down on him as he planted both hands on either side of Bill’s torso. Confident as the move was, his entire face was red all the way to the ears, and he was visibly sweating as he hovered over Bill. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dipper asked, trying to be smooth even as his voice shook.

Yet even as ridiculous as it all was, it was working. Bill felt his own skin getting hot, his stomach tying itself in knots, and his heart almost pounding right out of his chest as Dipper looked down at him. He wanted nothing more than to - that to  _ what?  _ What did humans do in these situations? Something with their mouths, right?

“It means I like your face, kid,” Bill said, defiant as ever as he grinned up at Dipper. “Why don’t you bring it closer so I can stop looking at these damn stars?”

Dipper’s hair was soft on his face, his chest warm and pleasantly heavy as he laid half of himself down on top of Bill. Hesitant but bold, Bill wrapped his arms around Dipper to pull him closer, and in reply, Dipper pressed their lips together.  _ That _ was what Bill had been thinking of. He wasn’t entirely sure how to do it, but Dipper seemed eager enough for the both of them.

And that was the night Bill learned to appreciate stargazing. 


End file.
